Kells said: “Wait a minute, Shep.” His voice was very gentle. His mouth was curved in a smile and his eyes were very hot and intent. Beery sat still.
Fenner got up. Holding a darkening handkerchief to his face, tottered toward the door.
Kells went past him to the door, locked it. He said: “Both you bastards pipe down and sit still till I finish.” He shoved Fenner back into the chair. “As I was about to say: you were a little late, you heard Granquist outside the door, wiped off the rod — if you didn’t, I did — put in under the table and ducked into the cupboard.”
Beery said slowly: “What do you mean: you wiped it off?”
Kells didn’t answer. He squatted in front of Fenner, said: “Listen, you — what do you think I put on that act for — ribbed Granquist into taking the fall? Because she can beat it.” His elbows were on his knees. He pointed his finger forcibly at Fenner, sighted across it. “You couldn’t. You couldn’t get to first base...”
Fenner’s face was a bruised, fearful mask. He stared blankly at Kells.
“A few days ago — yesterday — all I wanted was to be let alone,” Kells went on. “I wasn’t. I was getting along fine — quietly — legitimately — and Rose and you and the rest of these — gave me action.”
He stood up. “All right — I’m beginning to like it.” He walked once to the window, back, bent over Fenner. “I’m taking over your organization. Do you hear me? I’m going to run this town for a while — ride hell out of it.”
He glanced at Beery, smiled. Then he turned again to Fenner, spoke quietly: “I was going East tomorrow. Now you’re going. You’re going to turn everything over to me and take a nice long trip — or they’re going to break your goddamned neck with a rope.”
Kells went to the small desk, sat down. He found a pen, scribbled on a piece of Lido stationery. “And just to make it ‘legal, and in black and white’, as the big business men say — you’re going to sign this — and Mister Beery is going to witness it.”